The Primrose Path
by AnaRose17
Summary: Alternative ending to "Your Hell Burns, Mine Glitters". Soulless Sam all the way.
1. Chapter 1

**Here goes the other way the story "Your Hell Burns, Mine Glitters" could have ended... For all those who'll shed a tear or two for soulless Sam, because he really was awesome.**

**Italics are recap, so you know where fate took another turn... ;) **

**Next chapter should be up soon, hope you all enjoy. **

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* * *

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**Something wicked this way comes.**

_Macbeth Act 4, scene 1, 44–49_

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* * *

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"_Cass can't help me. I need to know if there's a spell, or a weapon, or anything that can keep a soul out forever." _

_June revelled in the sweet sound of those words. _

"_Naw, what's going on, Sam?"_

"_It's for me." _

"_Oh, your soul, it's not still down there?" _

_Sam just glared at him. _

"_It is. Well, then I can understand you don't want it back, seeing as Micky and Lucy are hate-banging it as we speak."_

"_So, can you help me?" _

"_Yes, but the question rather is, will I? By the way, would your girlfriend really be so happy with your lack of a soul?" _

"_Would I be here otherwise?" June arched an eyebrow. _

"_Aren't you two just a match made in hell." Balthazar gloated. _

"_Probably," June shrugged. "So, will you?" _

"_Maybe." _

"_Set your terms." _

* * *

"Sacrifice a virgin on a full moon," June was still trying to wrap her head around that. Supernatural ways surely were screwed up. "Do the angels have any clue what the average age for girls losing their virginity these days is? Finding a virgin is practically impossible. Especially because those that are don't shout it out loud."

"_You_ were screaming pretty loudly."

"Technically, at that point, I wasn't a virgin anymore," June replied simply, "Either way, now that your fruitless attempt at making me go all abashed at the mention of my unceremonious sacrificing of the only virtue I might have ever had has failed, could we get back to the problem at hand: Finding a damn virgin?"

"College."

"What?" June whipped her head around and looked at Sam as if he had lost his soulless marbles. "You ever heard of spring break, Sam? Nobody comes out of that as a virgin."

"Except for that small group of girls and her stupid little promise rings."

Now it dawned on June. "Not too bad."

"Is that ever so slight appreciation I hear in your lovely voice?"

"For you? Never. For the idea? Maybe. So where's the next college in this goddamn state of sand, sand and more sand?"

"They do have the occasional cactus."

"Great, well, unless you want to sacrifice a virgin cactus, I strongly suggest you direct us in some civilisation where we can find a _real_ virgin. Oh, hey, I just thought of a plan B."

"That being?"

"Think real hard, Sammy. Which type of woman can you be 99% sure she's a virgin?"

"Uh…Sarah Palin?"

"Doesn't she have a kid?" June frowned, scrambling for any political background information in her head. It was scarily scarce.

"Ever heard of artificial insami-"

"Okay, eew, stop, I'm getting completely wrong images in my head. Eww," June shuddered, "So, back to who I was originally referring to: Nuns."

Sam stared at her incredulously. "You want to sacrifice a nun in a less-than-holy ritual? Isn't that a little on the nose?"

"Excuse me, since when do _you_ give a crap about morality?"

"I don't, I just didn't realize you don't, either."

"Sam, seriously," June sighed, "I'm screwing _you_ - over and over, in every imaginable place and way – and I'm helping you keeping your soul out by murder. Just where do you expect me to fit morality into the picture?"

"Maybe as a marginal remark."

"My margins are crammed full with stuff like going to strip clubs and killing Croatoan infected humans. Not exactly anything that puts me on Santa's good girls list. I doubt he cares much if I add the sacrificing of a virgin. So, college or nunnery?"

"How about you work the nunnery and I the college?"

"No, no, no, how about _you_ work the nunnery and _I_ the college?"

"What am I supposed to say that gets me into a nunnery? You'd have a much better cover."

"What are you supposed to say to lure innocent, pure virgins out into the dark to sacrifice them?" June arched an eyebrow. "The promise ring kind of implies no sexual contact before marriage, so unless your devilish good looks, no pun intended, can convince such a naïve little thing to marry you within a day or two, I don't see how that'll work out. Whereas I, on the other hand, can mingle with them, pretending to be of equal convictions and get them to take a little moonlight walk with me to admire the _pure_ beauty of the full moon."

Sam was briefly gripped by lust for murder, but decided it was a waste of good material if he killed June.

"I win," June announced smilingly.

"You know, June, there are those moments when I'd like nothing better but to rip your throat."

"Sadly for you, those moments do not outweigh all those times you want to rip the clothes off my body."

"That might change with time."

"Only souls change with time, Sam, and you don't have one, so let's skip the kinky murder talk and either have a quickie by the side of the road to release the tension or get down to business right away. Seeing as we've got only 48 hours left to woo ourselves into an airtight circle of virgins, find the weak link and lure her out into the dark, I'd vote for option two and save the sex for later. Unless you want to have a go at the local virgins first." June's eyebrows shot sky-high, not without a daring edge.

"I don't do virgins, princess. Only if they're begging me to."

June landed a well-aimed punch into his side. "I didn't _beg_!"

"Oh, really? I recall you using words such as-"

"_Shut up._"

"When have I ever, just because you told me to?"

"Sam, you want your soul out or not? Now, where's the next damn college?"

* * *

It was almost too easy for June to weasel her way into the virgin club.

She didn't know if she should be offended by that; in her mind, the self-proclaimed virgins were nothing but wallflowers. Mostly, that was true, but there certainly were vibrant, pretty ones amongst them. June sussed them out from the beginning; they were too much of a hassle to coax out.

It had been frighteningly simple to stumble upon them, and they were indeed a group, not sparse individuals.

'Good old Mid-West,' June sighed.

Now June sat in the one girl's room, Lily or something, where a few of the promise ring holders had assembled. In an unwatched moment as the others chatted, June checked her phone for any messages.

Naturally, Sam deserted her, leaving her trapped in conversations of such sweet innocence, June's teeth stuck together by just listening to them.

"Rick and I kissed for the first time yesterday!" One of the girls cried excitedly.

"How long have you been dating?" June asked to throw herself into the game.

"Nearly a year."

June almost choked on her coffee, which luckily went by unnoticed as the others got lost in girly giggles. June used the second to take stock of her and Sam's so-called relationship: Known for two days, then had wild sex (including locally appraised virginity to somehow end up gone), played a kinky game for two weeks or so, then had seriously boisterous and utterly inappropriate sex, and had more or less fucked every night since then.

June was just glad moral corruption wasn't visible, or she might have been proclaimed the Anti-Christ in this circle.

'Alright, enough of the honey talk, or I'm going to throw up,' June thought resolutely. Flicking through her memory, she found the ability to look abashed and innocent, though it really took her best skills at acting to make it look believable.

"Actually, I met a guy two days ago…" She started tentatively.

All girls' attentions were on her now. "Who is he? How old? Where'd you meet him?"

June really should have felt her conscience eat her away at using these nice girls to keep her soulless lover intact – or, well, whatever.

So she spun her frighteningly easy to believe tale and concluded with: "I really want to meet him, but I don't want to go alone."

And the trap shut close with such ease like a freshly cut knife cut through butter. The comparison wasn't that far off.

* * *

"Did they buy the virgin act?"

"Frighteningly easily, yeah," June huffed when she returned at late afternoon to the motel room Sam and she were staying in. Unlike the ones they were used to, this one was actually not too bad – June had gotten sick of the cheap hooker shacks and insisted on a motel with clean, comfortable rooms.

Sam had called her a spoilt brat, June had in return called him a low-brow son of a bitch and that was that.

"Must be your innocent blue eyes," Sam said in a tone so heavy with sarcasm June was surprised it found its way up his throat and out his mouth without gravity taking over beforehand.

"They do tend to be very beguiling, I've noticed," June straddled his lap provokingly, her low neckline revealing lots of tempting flesh. Her praised blue eyes kept Sam's hazel ones in a firmly locked gaze, however, as if daring him to desert them for the sake of her cleavage. "You know," June continued in conversational tone, "I had some time to think today, what with the promise ringers conversing about things I've got no clue about, such as morality."

"Sounds as if an interesting relation is coming my way," Sam slid a hand over June's waist, but didn't give in to the temptation of her deliciously presented breasts yet.

"One that might actually end up saving your fine ass."

It wasn't Sam's style to press June for information, as it would have meant he actually let her have the upper hand. June figured as much and sneakily opened the first three buttons on Sam's shirt to let her wander freely and adoringly over his firm chest.

"Do tell," Sam finally hissed.

June grinned, let the sweet taste of victory dissolve on her tongue and went on: "We're going off an angel's intel here and trust him not to screw us over, with this whole virgin thing. I mean, Balthazar does want you dead, and I didn't quite get the impression he's ordered a membership in my fan club, either."

"Baby, you don't _have_ a fan club."

"Oh, sugar, if you knew," June breathed, her lips hovering inches in front of Sam's before she straightened a little again. She rested her arms on Sam's shoulders and explained: "All I'm saying is that we can't be sure this will actually work, while Death is a much more reliable business partner than Balthazar."

"Get to business already."

"Always so impatient," June whispered throatily against his neck, just underneath his jaw, which immediately tensed upon June's soft lips grazing against his skin. Unfortunately, they left it all too soon and the belligerent girl on his lap resumed her former position, facing him with too far a distance between their mouths for Sam's taste.

"So what if we let the virgin live and make a deal with Death instead? I mean, Dean must have promised him something for the return of your soul, I'm sure you can make Death a better offer. Just that you, in return for whatever he wants you to do, want Him to keep that damn soul forever away from you."

Sam huffed.

"You're allowed to praise my brilliance now."

"Vanity is a Deadly Sin, princess. Wouldn't want to condemn you anymore than you already are."

"What's one or two sins more? I already ticked off Lust and Avarice."

"Lust, I get," Sam lifted her up and pushed her onto the table, impatiently sweeping off the papers cluttering it up, "But what's with the Avarice?"

June languidly opened the remaining buttons on his shirt, pushed it down his arms and sighed pleasantly as he pushed her skirt up. "Wouldn't you just like to know."

"Behave, or I'll leave you here dripping wet as you are."

"You wouldn't," June replied and knowingly scratched her nails over the denim stretching over Sam's erection.

"Minx," Sam hissed.

"Very true," She growled, clawed her hand in Sam's hair and pressed his lips down on hers. June's phone interrupted their heavy duty make-out session, and for a second, she was tempted to ignore it. "I have to get that…" She reluctantly broke away. Sam released her unwillingly and half-dressed as she was, June stumbled towards her purse, fumbled for the phone and snapped it open with an irritated: "What?"

"Aww, Juney, did I interrupt your roll in the hay with Sammy?"

"Start talking, bitch."

"Is that any way to talk to me after what I dug up for you?"

"To each saint his candle, to each demon his insult."

"Despite you being one big ass whore, I like you. Maybe for said reason."

"Talk, or I'll drop some hints as to your whereabouts to some angels. Or demons, doesn't really matter for you, does it?"

"Such a party pooper you are. You seem to be all fun and game for Sam."

"When you've had your fill of getting your kicks out of commenting on our sex life, just call again, alright? If you're still alive then, that is."

Sam's bored eyes suddenly grew sharp and interested. So June was dealing with demons, demons who knew about their 'relationship', for the lack of a better word. That should cut it down to... Meg.

The abyss in June was growing deeper and deeper if she resorted to working with demons without as much as a blink.

But hell, Sam liked that cold shimmer in her sapphire eyes, the fierce resoluteness in her demeanour.

"Not one for foreplay, are you, June?" Meg stated with faked boredom. "Sure makes it easier for hot-headed Sammy."

"Enough already, bitch. I'm lethally close to bringing the demons in the arena and have them drag you back to hell if you don't talk."

That seemed to finally shut Meg up. "Fine. Only way getting through to Death is by dying."

"How'd Dean do it then?"

"He died."

"Last time I checked, he was up and kicking."

"That's because he was revived, stupid. You humans have those fancy little machines, remember?"

Sam saw June arch an eyebrow interestedly, and saw a plan forming behind the indefinable gaze her eyes shot him.

"You know, I'd almost wish you luck," Meg said sarcastically, "I enjoy watching you and Sam tearing each other to shreds."

"You need sex therapy if watching others turns you on."

"Says the slut enjoying kinky sex with soulless Sam Winchester."

"At least, I'm getting some, bitch. Lots, actually."

Meg laughed hollowly. "Whatever. Give Sammy a kiss from me, for old time's sake."

"Hell I'll do."

"Hell's already doing _you_, bitch. Use contraception, will you?"

June wouldn't dignify that with an answer and snapped her phone shut.

"What was that all about?"

"What do you think? I just had a lovely chat with your ex."

Sam grunted and fixed her gaze on her. "Sounded pretty kinky. Something you want to tell me?"

"Oh, yeah, absolutely. See, Sam, although I'm screwing you on a daily basis, I'm secretly just waiting to have lesbian sex with a demon."

"Don't let me stop you."

"Okay, then," June's eyes glinted dangerously as she reached down to pick up her jacket, slip on her shoes and sashayed with swaying hips towards the door.

"June," Sam threatened glowering.

"Yeah," She sang, not the least bit impressed and opened the door. When he didn't say anything, she turned her head back and feigned surprise: "Why, Sam, you're not jealous, are you? After all, you _were_ the one suggesting I run off with a demon."

Completely run out of patience, Sam lunged forward, slammed the door closed and shoved June against the door, kissing her roughly. "Perfidious bitch."

"Aww, Sammy, your sweet-talking does have persuasive turning-on qualities, but we really need to keep that soul out of you. Business before pleasure."

As Sam watched June rearrange her appearance, he wondered when she'd passed the point of when her humanity was still vaguely present. Now, her soul was just about a mirror image of his.

Oh, that's right; he didn't have one.

"So, June, working with a demon?"

"Merely a business arrangement."

"Why the hassle?"

"Baby, I told you. I trust Death more than I trust Balthazar, so I told Meg to find out how to meet Death for afternoon tea. Now, stop fussing and let me kill you. Temporarily, anyways."

"You do understand that I'm more than unwilling to trust you?"

"If you won't trust me, who will you trust?" June raised her eyebrows. "It's either taking this risk, or soul's back up your sexy ass."

June could see Sam was still more inclined to just run with Balthazar's plan.

Beguilingly, she leaned forwards and crawled onto his lap. "You asked me why I was guilty of Avarice."

Sam let her cover his neck and chest in kisses, but wasn't any closer to believing her yet. Though she certainly had his full attention.

Her hands cupping his face as her lips placed kisses all over him, June whispered salaciously: "It's because I want _you_. All for myself, forever."


	2. Chapter 2

**"Here's ado to lock up honesty**  
**And honor from th' access of gentle visitors."**

**_The Winter's Tale (II, ii, 9-11)_**

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* * *

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"How sure are you again that this will work?"

"Depends. Do you want to be comforted and hear a white lie, or do you want to say your last words and hear the truth?"

"You had, what, half a year of pre-med?"

"Yup."

"And yet you expect me to just trust your capabilities to kill me and bring me back again?"

"Yup."

"I might not have a soul, June, but I do have a brain."

"Oh, gee, really? Well, you're covering that up nicely."

"You know what, I think that while I'm on the other side, I'll hand you over to Death with a cherry on top."

"Where are you going to get that cherry from that you already ate, Sammy?" June smiled sweetly.

"I doubt Death cares. Though he'll sure be happy about a freebie on reaping you."

"I don't think either heaven or hell really wants me."

"There's always purgatory for hopeless cases like you."

"Guess I'll meet you there, then." June plunged the syringe into Sam's arm.

"Ow!" He flinched.

"Don't be a wuss, geez," June rolled her eyes. They had ingloriously robbed a hospital to get the supplies they needed to send Sam to death and back; neither of them had truly been able to care.

"Why do _I _have to die, by the way?"

"Uh, because _you_ have the lethal drug cocktail in your system?" June had mixed a deadly poison that would trigger a heart attack. She'd prepared it with medications available at a drug store; she'd used parts of what she'd learned during pre-med and filled the knowledge gaps with information from the internet. "And because Death wants to deal with _you_, not me. So stop whining and die already."

"Fair warning, June…" Sam trailed off as he sank back into the bed, "If you do manage to bring me back, first thing I'm going to do is throttle you."

"Empty threats as usual."

"Near-death experiences tend to change that."

Then Sam was dead.

Or, well, whatever.

* * *

June was nervous and fluttery as she looked at the stop watch. Two more minutes to go.

What if she couldn't bring Sam back? She never thought beyond that point. Probably, she wouldn't have to, as Dean certainly would end her life not too soon after he'd find out she killed his brother.

'Damn it, Sam, I hope this works,' June bit her lower lip and charged up the machine.

* * *

'I must be completely insane,' Was Sam's first thought after his passing. 'Trusting June, who trusts a demon's intel.'

He stood in the motel room he'd died in, but could see neither June nor his body; he did see Tessa, the reaper.

"You got a family contract on us?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"I've been assigned the hard cases, and that always ends up being you and your brother," Tessa growled. "I take it you didn't just take a bullet and die easy, but want to talk to my boss."

"Yeah. Mind getting him for me?" It wasn't so much a request as rather a command.

Tessa had grown weary of arguing with the Winchesters, so she just turned around to fetch the horseman. "One last thing: Should you wake up again, tell that blonde little bed mate of yours that if she keeps drinking whiskey like that, she'll be dead by the age of 50."

"That's a higher life expectancy than hunters generally have," Sam shrugged carelessly. "Now get your boss, I don't have all my life."

"Hilarious," With that dry note lingering in the air – or whatever it was on the other side, seeing as nobody here needed it to breathe – Tessa was gone. Soon after, Death stood before Sam.

"I am not you and your brother's personal assistant, Samuel Winchester."

"Right. Well, I came to make you a deal."

"I do not make deals. Go look for a demon."

"You struck a deal with Dean."

"Your brother is more likeable than you are."

"Well, whatever offer he made you, I'll make you a better one. Just keep my soul out."

"You overestimate yourself arrogantly, Sam, just like your brother does, too. I am _Death_. What I do, getting your soul back, I do out of a useless sense of thanks for ridding me of Lucifer's yoke."

"Yeah, well, I'm the one who jumped into that hole, so if you do owe anyone, it's me."

"I do not owe anyone anything."

"Then why'd you agree to get my soul back?"

Death was becoming weary of this conversation, and truthfully, was beginning to see certain advantages in making a deal with Sam. A plan as to how bind both Winchester brothers to himself was taking shape and form, and slowly, Death stepped closer to Sam. "You want me to keep your soul out of that body."

"Yes. Can you do it?"

"Of course. The question is, will I?"

Sam felt instantly reminded of the discussion with Balthazar. One some level, demons, angels and horsemen were all the same. "What do you want me to do in return?"

"You devote your soulless life to the soul quest."

"Meaning?"

"You'll find out in due time."

"Is that what you asked Dean to do, too?"

"Yes. So, Sam, your time is running short. Five more seconds, and all discussion about your future will be futile. Or rather, limited to the question: Heaven or hell?"

Sam wondered how bad that 'soul quest' could possibly be. Compared to having a broken soul shoved back into him? Anything would be better than that. "Alright, fine."

"Very well, then."

"Why'd you rather have me work for you than Dean?"

* * *

June let out a shriek when Sam jolted up and grabbed her shoulders roughly, pulled her down onto the bed and buried her underneath him, pinning her down immobilized, in one swift motion.

Typical. Hunter wakes from death, first thing he does is attack anything or anyone around him.

At first, it seemed as if Sam didn't recognize her, and for the briefest of seconds, June actually feared he might make his pre-death threat of throttling her true. If the dangerous glinting in his eyes was any indication, she wasn't that far off.

Then his grip on her loosened and his glare softened. "You did it."

"Why so surprised?" June dared to breathe again.

"Easiest way of getting rid of me was just there."

"Seriously, Sam. I admit our murder talk is kinky and all, but you don't honestly think I'd kill you?"

Judging from the sceptical raise of his eyebrows, June figured that he thought it likely she would. And that he certainly considered murdering her still.

"You think I'd go through all this damn hassle if I wasn't interested in keeping your soulless ass alive?"

"I don't believe in your selflessness, June. I know you've got an ulterior motive to this, and that motive might as well be killing me."

"Well, it isn't. Otherwise I'd have just left you after that heart attack."

Sam regarded her with a long look, as if there were still parts of her he hadn't already inspected intensively. Outwardly, he certainly had, but character-wise, June still held surprises.

"You're a pain in the ass, June. Nonetheless, I will account you some alluring qualities."

"Generous. You mind getting off me now? I can't breathe."

"You usually don't mind."

"Really, Sam? One minute back from the dead and your thoughts are already back in the gutter? Then again, where else would they be."

"Just keeping yours company." Sam noted with a daring glint in his eyes.

June's face lit up in a victorious smile. If everything went after plan, not only Sam's thoughts would keep her company, but his body, too. _He_ would stay with her, and they could dance the soulless salsa together.

Oh, how she rejoiced.

"So, what'd Death say?"

"He'll keep my soul out."

If June had been given the physical freedom to, she might have performed a little celebratory dance, now she just relaxed into the mattress and stretched her bust towards Sam, like a cat arching her back leisurely.

"In return for what?"

"'Devoting my life to the soul quest'."

June arched an eyebrow. That sounded like right out of a Middle Age novel. "To Avalon, Lancelot."

"What?"

"Never mind. So, he wants you hunting for the Holy Grail, is that it?"

Sam shrugged, still holding June's wrists firmly in place. "He didn't elaborate."

"So you signed a deal you have no idea what the conditions are. Correct me if I'm wrong here, but didn't Dean have to _be_ Death for a day to get him to retrieve your soul? So why did Death just let you off the hook with some ominous job?"

"I'd have just loved to discuss the details of it with him, really, June, but inconveniently, I only had three minutes."

"Must have felt like being buzzed on at a speed date," June grinned cheekily.

"I don't know, princess, never happened to me," Sam smiled cynically at her, gave her a rough kiss and then released her.

June was surprised to find she still had circulation in her hands when she straightened up.

"By the way, your lipstick's smudged."

"I wonder whose fault that is," June growled.

Sam shrugged. "I don't see why you still bother with it in the first place, really."

"What, you think just because I have your attention I'll quit catching everyone else's?"

"It's not like you actually _want_ anyone else's."

"I'm keeping my options open, Sam. We're not in a committing relationship, so whatever, right? Besides, I thought it took _feeling_ for jealousy."

"I ain't jealous, princess."

"Sure sounded like it when you thought I'd leave you for a demon."

"I simply dislike losing convenient options."

"Especially since I'm your _only_ option."

"Don't overdo it, June," Sam glowered and checked his .45., "Now we need to kill that virgin."

"What? Why?"

"Insurance."

"For…? Death's not going to plug the soul back into you, why do we still need to sacrifice the girl?"

"Won't hurt."

"Except for the girl."

"I'm sorry; did I miss the resurrection of your morality while I was dead?"

"It ain't about morality, it's about that strange thing called smartness. I've got a dictionary of foreign words you're welcome to use if you want to look it up."

Sam clicked the magazine back into place and snapped his head around to glare at June. "I think you should look it up first, seeing as apparently you don't know what it means. Using that sassy mouth of yours when I've got a loaded gun in my hand? Definitely stupidity."

"We have an expert speaking, I see. You're the one unnecessarily risking being caught by the cops by murdering someone, so you should know."

"And what if Death double-crosses us, huh, you ever thought of that?"

"And he would do that _why_?"

"To prevent us from doing exactly this: Keeping my soul out for good. We don't know what Dean really promised him. For all we know, Death could have agreed to keep my soul out so I wouldn't go poking at solutions that would assure that."

"So that he can definitely hold Dean to whatever _he_ promised Him for getting your soul back."

"You're smarter than you look, June."

"Maybe, but this whole 'who has an alliance with who for what when why' makes my head hurt."

"Well, toughen up, you need to lure the virgin out."

"That's your specialty."

"Sorry, princess, but my extraordinary talent only works on the stupid ones."

"Makes sense. Like will to like."

They regarded each other with a cold look before June added: "So, basically, you're double-crossing Death. Smart, Sam, really smart. I bet he'll never find out."

"I'm not double-crossing him, I'm rather taking out insurance."

June gnawed at her bottom lip. It was one thing to kill as the only way, but another if it was just a little gig on the side to supplement a deal made.

"June?"

"Yeah."

"You going to do this or not?"

June looked up into Sam's hazel eyes. Could she really senselessly murder for him? She would only be accessory, but it would doom her all the same.

Sam couldn't see any thought, let alone emotion betray June's face, but he had a fair idea of what must be going through her mind. He would never admit it, of course, but he depended on her this time. He needed her to coax the virgin out into an open field where the prepared ritual would wait for her. And death.

For that fool-proof way to keep his soul out, Sam wouldn't shy back from fighting dirty.

June tried suppressing an ardent moan when Sam's fingertips lightly brushed over her shoulders and collarbone. "June."

Damn him and his alluring voice.

"June, baby."

She nearly bit her tongue off from suppressed sighs when he resorted to kissing her neck while his hands wandered down her sides. Cheap tricks.

June had made her decision.

It was either living with Sam forever and say goodbye to the last remaining bit of humanity still intact, or return to a life of glitz and glamour alone, but with a hint of a soul.

It was a frighteningly easy decision.

"Damn you to hell, Winchester."


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry for the wait, I made the chapter a little longer to make up for it. Less than two weeks until the next episode comes out, finally! *squeal* **

**Dedicated to Samantha :) **

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* * *

**

**O most pernicious woman!**  
**O villain, villain, smiling, damnèd villain!**  
**My tables—meet it is I set it down**  
**That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain—  
At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.**

**_Hamlet Act 1, scene 5, 105–109_**

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* * *

_**

"I take that as a yes," Sam smirked and brushed through her hair.

"Yes, damnit." June growled. "I'll go to hell for this, but yes."

"If it's any consolation; you won't be the one pulling the trigger."

"Don't, Sam."

"Don't what?"

"Try consoling me, it's mushy and absolutely not what I want to hear," June hissed and broke free from Sam's hold. She marched over to her bags and picked out some fresh clothes; she somehow doubted it would help her virgin image if she showed up in a half-ripped open blouse and her skirt skidded up to reveal most of her thighs.

"You know, June…"

Mistrusting his tone, June looked up sceptically.

"…if I were able to feel anything, I think I just might love you," Sam concluded with a smirk already telling June the honesty content of his declaration. It was about the same as if Lucifer himself said he liked babies and fluffy puppies.

June huffed disregarding. "Yeah, right. Well, even if you would, I wouldn't care, since I don't feel even with a soul theoretically present."

"Thank God for that."

"Wow, if I knew that by agreeing to be accessory to murder, I'd finally hear some gratitude in your voice, I would have happily walked around slaughtering weeks ago."

"You need therapy."

"Sure, think we'll get couple discount?"

Sam watched June get changed, a process always fascinating him anew. "I thought we weren't a couple."

"Now you're bringing that up again," June groaned and pulled an unusually stuffy looking shirt over her head. No prints, no tears, no cleavage worth mentioning.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Sam nudged towards said shirt.

"Convent."

"Looks like, yeah."

June stepped towards him, sarcastic smile playing around her lips. "Don't worry, Sammy, by tonight, I'll be back to playboy bunny dressed all in Victoria's Secret."

"Let's hope so."

"You need therapy. Just saying."

* * *

"Alright, so, nun or girl?"

"Both?"

June stared at Sam, who just looked back at her as if it had been a perfectly normal suggestion. "_Sam_! Getting away with one murder will be hard enough, we're not going to drag two people out there and blow their lights out!"

"What if one of them isn't really a virgin?"

"You wanna check beforehand?"

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Nice that we sorted that out. Look, nuns are very highly likely virgins, but not necessarily. Whereby on the other hand, those girls back at the college?"

"Yeah?"

"Definitely virgins. You can't fake that conviction of the wrongness of moral corruption and the doe eyed crap about waiting for your one true love."

"I vaguely recall _you_ having been one of those girls not wanting to have sex with anyone but your husband."

June huffed. "Yeah, until you came along, anyways. So, unless you want to marry me, I suggest you cut me out of the romantic princess club. Or I'll drag you up the aisle retroactively."

"And share all your pretty millions with me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course not. Marriage settlement. But don't worry, even if it means living in life-long sin, I won't ever marry you. Last thing I need is have an official and binding connection to you."

"We're in final agreement there."

Seeding, they glared at each other, before June calmly said: "Now, about the college virgins."

"They could be pretending."

"For what advantage?"

"Not everyone thinks what certain actions might gain them, June, some just like the prestige."

"Being a declared virgin is not prestige. Which proves me right in saying that they are most definitely virgins. Nobody would claim to be one when she isn't. So, college girl on the sacrifice altar it is."

"Great," Sam's eyes glinted, "Because that leaves it to you to lure them out."

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this," June moaned to herself as she walked across the college campus. She and Nathalie had agreed to meeting at the fountain; from there, it was a twenty-minute walk to the forest where June met her alleged big love, blah, blah, blah.

'I'm beginning to think that scepticism and egoism are the best recipe for surviving,' June thought as she saw Nathalie waiting for her, smiling and never even guessing at what was in store for her.

Nat was a pretty girl; a little plump, but properly proportioned and a sympathetic heart-shaped face with trusting brown eyes.

'Damn, girl, I wish you were a little more mistrusting,' June wouldn't say she felt pity or regret, but believed an empathetic thought was suitable, at least.

"Hey, Nat," June beamed brightly, thinking: 'I should get an Oscar for this.'

"Thank you so much for coming with me."

"Don't mention it, I'm eager to meet your boyfriend."

"Well, he's not my boyfriend, really." June thought of how far Sam was from boyfriend material. Though, loyalty wise, he was, strangely enough, better than any of her exes. Ever since that night they'd slept with each other for the first time, June hadn't been aware of him banging any other woman.

"Let's hope he soon is," Nat smiled warmly.

'Let's hope not. Sounds way too committing and would somehow take the lightness out of sex,' June stopped herself just in time and said instead: "Yes, I really hope so, too."

"So, Nat… why'd you decide to wait?"

"For what?"

June looked at her sideways, and then she got it.

"Oh, you mean with sex?"

"Yeah," June rolled her eyes, glad the other girl wouldn't see it in the dark.

"Well, same reason you wait, too."

'Right, what were those again?' June was certain she'd develop the unhealthy habit of talking to herself in her mind if this conversation continued for much longer. "Right, right, but it's just, there are still different perspectives, know what I mean?"

Nat didn't smell the rat and answered: "I just want to save myself for the man I love and am going to marry, you know?"

'Absolutely not,' would have been the honest reply to that. "Ah. Of course. Right."

"And there are so many cases of teenage pregnancy and all…"

"There's always contraception," June threw in carelessly. Catching Nat's frown, she hastily added: "For those who need it, I mean."

"Yeah, but God wouldn't want you sleeping with a guy unless you were married to him."

'God left the building, sister. And I already signed my contract with hell, so whatever. Might as well sleep around.'

June smiled understandingly: "Yes, certainly. God sees everything. Or so I've heard."

"Of course he does."

"Do you believe in heaven, Nat?"

"Kind of goes with faith, don't you think?"

Faith in what, actually? June faintly remembered a time when she herself had believed in salvation and God; now, she knew that hell and the devil were real, and they were more likely to become her destiny than God and his paradise.

A suppressed shot cut through the nightly silence.

* * *

"Geez, Sam, little warning next time?" June shrieked as she jumped to the side. Nat's dead body sank to the floor beside her.

"What'd you want me to do, call out to you? Yeah, that'd have been inconspicuous and real contributory to the surprise effect."

June rolled her eyes. "Whatever. We done here?"

"Almost," Sam mumbled and turned his attention back to the ritual, mixed some herbs, lit some candles and whatnot. "Yeah, all done."

"Okay, then what do you say we leave this town and put it far, far behind us?"

"Mexican border sounds good at the moment." Over the years of committing crimes, Sam had become masterful at covering up his tracks and getting away with it; but grave desecration and credit card fraud where a long way from murder. And this town wasn't so big as that June and he wouldn't have caught attention.

June huffed disdainfully. "Please. Mexico is so last year. No. We pack our stuff, hit the road and drive to Davenport."

"What's in Davenport?"

"Private jet waiting."

"You're kidding."

"No, absolutely not."

"What about security, huh? The pilots and I don't know who else lurking around at a private airport?"

"Sam, please. Give me some credit. There's no airport, just an abandoned stretch of road, my own private jet, the pilot, you and me."

"What are we supposed to tell the pilot, huh? To take us out of country because we just committed murder?"

"Sam, you make everything so damn complicated. For one: Corruption can be a wonderful thing. Everyone can be bought, they just have their price; the pilot won't talk, believe me. For another: I can come up with a cover story just as well as you can." June smiled triumphantly, "All he knows is that he's supposed to fly a millionaire's daughter out of country who's run off with her lover that her family didn't quite approve off. Dramatic romances always sell well."

By now, they'd reached the motel and got into their room unseen. Sam closed the door behind them and looked at June in sheer disbelief. He'd been certain there was little this girl could do to surprise him further, but she'd managed to do just that.

"Is that speechlessness I'm hearing?"

"Not in this life, princess."

"Okay, then let's see what you say to this: They'll never think of looking for us for at least two more days, because I paid this motel in cash for four days, and on our way, we'll put the 'do not disturb' sign on. No credit card trail, and we used fake IDs."

"What about me having to be on call for Death? "

"One: Death is everywhere, as you may have gathered from the news at one point. Two: You killed the virgin, so even if Death steps back on your deal, that soul can't get back in you, right?"

"If Balthazar wasn't lying, that is."

"Either way, we should bail country for a while, until we can be sure they're not pinning that murder on us."

"How can they not pin it on us? You show up in a small group of girls, then one of them goes missing and you're gone with the wind. Won't take them long to figure out you haven't been in town alone."

"Sam," June straightened up from packing her bag, "I may not have done this murdering, stealing vagabond lifestyle all my life, but I am capable of thinking. You don't need to grow up on the road to know how to survive. My cover story wasn't that I was a new full-time student, but that I am a French exchange student who would spend two days on campus to see what American colleges are like and maybe create a connection between this one and my school in France.

"And they bought that?"

"I can be very convincing if I have to be."

"Sadly, I can't come up with anything to say against that."

"That's because I'm utterly and completely right and a genius at that."

"Pride comes before a fall, princess."

"Speak for yourself. I, for my part, have climbed higher every time I let proud egoism take the better of me."

"There's a first time for everything."

"You ate a quotation book for dinner or what's up with the proverb lesson? Or are you maybe just out of original witty rejoinders? That would be rather disappointing."

"When have I ever given you reason for disappointment?" Sam roughly pushed June against the wall, though without hurting her. She could feel his breath on her neck as his lips flew over her jaw, lightly brushing over it. "You surely never _sounded_ disappointed."

He released her as abruptly as he'd attacked her. June smiled to herself and congratulated herself on her catch. Moreover, on _keeping_ her catch.

Alright, most people – maybe _all_ people – would call her crazy for giving up so much for a soulless, conscience-less and heartless man. But Sam, how he was now, was all June wanted.

They grabbed their bags and discreetly left the motel room, sneaking across the dark, empty parking lot towards June's Impala. None of them even wasted a thought to the girl they'd killed tonight; Why should they?

"Dean's going to be looking for us," Sam stated casually as June raced over the interstate.

"Why?"

"Different reasons: You, he'll want to kill. Me; he wants to put my soul back into my body to get his little brother back."

"Yeah, but that won't really work, what with the virgin murder."

"Well, if Dean finds out about that, he'll just kill me, too."

"I'd say this is an excellent time to take a little out-of-country vacation, then."

Sam looked at the girl beside him and wondered how this belligerent young thing could be the one understanding him; and most of all, not judging him.

A small part of him was almost sorry for what he was doing to Dean; but really, Sam leaving was better for everyone. It would allow Dean to maybe move on, now that his soulless not-quite-brother wasn't torturing him anymore.

For the most part, though, Sam almost _felt_ pleasant anticipation at the prospect of spending time with June and not having to worry about his soul being shoved back into him.

Almost, anyways.

* * *

"What do you mean you can't bring Sam's soul back into his body?" Dean's voice was a stone's throw away from yelling, but experience has taught him volume got him squad with Death.

"You Winchesters share a certain arrogance and disrespect for death." Death raised his penetrating eyes to Dean. "Your brother struck me a deal much like yours."

"That guy is not my brother."

"Fair enough, he isn't. It doesn't change the fact that he made a deal with me, saying he will stay on the soul business if I do not return his soul to his body."

"You son of a-"

"Before you lose yourselves in a useless tirade, Dean, listen closely: I said I will not return Sam's soul to his body."

Dean was just about to let lose said tirade, but something made him stop. "You're double-crossing Sam and me both," He stated, too shocked to really feel anything.

"Of course not, Dean. I'm just using the giant loopholes you and Sam left me."

* * *

June parked the Impala. "You drive." She simply ordered and got out to round the car.

Sam didn't question it, just scooted over and grabbed the wheel. They'd been driving all night, and at the horizon, a very thin line of light began to show.

'Silver lining,' Sam thought ironically.

June waited half an hour before she casually stated: "I'll get changed. This convent outfit gives me the creeps."

June climbed into the back with surprising agility considering the confined space. Sam risked a glance into the rear-view mirror to shoot a glance at June wiggling out of her shirt. The faint light outside cast alluring shadows onto her pale skin, making it almost glow. Her marble skin seemed even more luminous due to the harsh contrast of the black lace bra she was wearing.

"Eyes on the road, Sam. There might be bumps ahead."

"I'm momentarily more occupied with those in the back."

June leaned forward, running her hands down Sam's chest and pressing her lips against his neck. He could feel the soft warmth of her breasts against his shoulders.

"I sure hope so," She breathed. June grazed her lips over Sam's neck up to his ear, nibbled softly at his earlobe while her hands snuck down his shirt without opening a button.

"Damn, June. You're on the run from the law and want to do it in the car, seriously?"

"Well, we could have it off in some courtroom, if that's what you'd prefer…" June ran her thumbs over his nipples and then went lower. "…but I think we might get caught a bit more easily there. And I somehow don't think they'd let us have sex in jail. Now, wouldn't that be a punishment?" June murmured against his jaw. "So let's stick with the car."

"There is an offence called offending public decency, you know."

"Babe, you just committed stone-cold murder, and now you're worried about having sex by the side of the road where someone _might_ see us?" June grumbled in a low voice. "The only one watching might be some cougars. Besides, voyeurism is something we haven't tried yet. Well, save that episode with Dean and Cass in the next room, but that wasn't quite the same."

It drove Sam close to the point of insanity – true, scientifically acknowledged insanity, not the 'I see dead people' insanity – that he had to keep his hands on the wheel and couldn't touch June. He wanted to bury his hands in her long blonde mane, run his lips over her breasts, taste her…

June meanwhile rejoiced in the power of being the one utterly in control. She could feel Sam's muscles tense under her hands as she raked her nails over his abdomen, his chest.

"Sorry, I shouldn't keep your attention off the road," June whispered hoarsely and retreated with a sneaky smile on her lips. Sam could hear the zipper of her jeans even over the roaring engine.

The thought of June dressed only in underwear just inches behind him nearly made him park the car in the ditch and ravish her on the spot.

"It's just that I'm so hot for you…" She sighed lecherously. "But I guess it's more important for us to get over the border as quickly as possible."

"Put on some clothes, June." Sam pressed out between clenched teeth.

"Why? I'm so hot."

"Because you're on heat like the bitch you are," Sam meant for it to sound derisive, but June was, as usual, not put off by it but twisted it against him: "And dominating, compulsive controlling alpha male that you are you're just dying to claim me." She kissed his neck, grazed her teeth over his skin.

"I have control over my urges, unlike you."

"If it comforts you to believe that," She breathed close to his ear and leaned back again. "No need to pretend for me, Sam, I know better."

Sam wished he could close his eyes as not to be tempted to look back to June; but ending up wrapped around a tree wasn't his idea of going out gracefully.

"Changed your mind yet?" June's head appeared just behind his and she swiftly played with his hair before letting her fingertips trail to his jaw, gingerly tracing it from one side to the other.

All too soon, her touch was gone again. "Probably not, stubborn as you are," She sighed dramatically. "Oh, well, I'll get dressed, seeing as we'll arrive soon." June climbed back onto the passenger's seat. "Wouldn't want the upstanding pilot to get a wrong idea of me."

"He'd get the precisely _correct_ idea of you," Sam forced his eyes onto the monotone road and willed himself not to look at the practically naked June beside him.

"Who knows, if I show up as my true self, maybe he'll give me a free ride." June arched her eyebrow in typical lewdly suggestive manner.

Damn, that woman was a minx.

"Sex in return for a private plane ride over the border, huh? That sounds vaguely like you're willing to prostitute yourself, June, for the sake of saving a couple of hundred thousands. Not that you wouldn't be worth a lot of money, but not that much. Besides, even if the pilot would fall for your Venus trap, it'd slightly taint the dramatic lovers' story, don't you think?"

"Nope, I don't. It's a dramatic twist in an already dramatic story: Girl leaves guy she left her family for for a corrupt pilot."

"Piece of advice, June? Don't write novels. You suck at plots."

"I don't _need_ to write novels, I've got enough money for the rest of my life. And I don't suck at plots, but rather at-"

"No explicit images needed, thanks."

"Since when are you such a prude?"

Sam suppressed a groan. 'Since you're sitting half-naked beside me and all I want to do is ravish you right here, but I won't give in to your perfidious games that easily.'

"Since I'm a nice person, I'll extend the offer until we're on the plane," June breathed and raked her fingers over Sam's thigh as she leaned over to kiss his neck.

"You're a salacious beast, anyone ever tell you that?"

"Serving _your_ lecherous needs, I have to be."

Sam just pulled her over and gave her a stormy kiss. "I agree with you there."

Oh, yes, this would get very entertaining indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

**For my sister at heart Samantha! =) Thank you for all your support, life-saving emails and hours of fun conversations! =) **

**And thank you all for reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting! There'll be an epilogue up soon! =) I've got to admit that I'll shed a few tears for soulles Sam when soulful Sam comes back in two weeks... But man, am I glad Supernatural will finally be back then. I'm having serious withdrawal symptoms, if you can relate...**

* * *

**_Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch_**  
**_Of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space,_**  
**_Kingdoms are clay; our dungy earth alike_**  
**_Feeds beast as man. . . ._**

_Antony And Cleopatra Act 1, scene 1, 29–36_

_

* * *

_

They had been up in the air for precisely three minutes when they ripped the clothes off each other's body.

"This gives a new meaning to 'taking you higher than you've ever been before'." June remarked as she dug her nails into Sam's back. He'd roughly pushed her up the bar of the private jet and impatiently tugged her jeans down.

"You always have to comment on everything, don't you?" He growled and tore her shirt off.

"Just admit you don't have anything original to say."

"Oh, princess, I wouldn't be so cheeky if I were you… you might regret it."

Sure enough, June was soon lost in moans and cries of lust. It was a raw, quick and intense fuck; but then again, not like they really knew anything else.

"Well, we'll tick plane off the list," June just remarked as she pulled her shirt over her head again.

"You've got a list of places you want to get laid?" Sam arched his eyebrow in a mixture of contempt and disconcertment; but surprise and intrigue surely mingled into it, too.

"You don't?" June replied matter-of-factly, got up and walked over to the now slightly disarrayed bar. She rummaged through the bottles, found some glasses and poured them two shots of whiskey.

"All that from the girl once claiming to wait for the one worthy," Sam took the whiskey from her with a triumphant, ironic smile.

"Oh, sugar, I'm still waiting for that one guy, I'm just passing the time until then with B-stock." June kissed him roughly and sat down beside him.

Somewhere along the way, she had grown comfortable with having Sam close even when they weren't having sex. That didn't exclude those moments when she wanted to tear his heart out, but they balanced each other out pretty well.

"June, really. All your life you never had anything but first class, and you know I'm no exception to that." He pulled her towards him and kissed the taste of whiskey from her lips heatedly.

"You know how little I stick to my own principles, Sam. I ditched first class; you're the best example of that."

"Because you're an unprincipled hussy."

"And you like it."

* * *

"You're bringing Sam's soul back," Dean stated blankly in disbelief.

"Yes, indeed I am. I had planned on bringing your other brother's soul back, too… but Sam and his girlfriend got in the way of that. So it'll only be Sam."

"But you said you made a deal with him-"

"I did," Death interrupted, patience wearing thin. "And if you would just listen, Dean, you would understand."

'Listen,' Dean huffed contemptuously, 'My brother's soul is on the chopping block, and he needs audience for his monologue.'

Dean kept quiet, though, as much as the accusations and questions burned on his tongue.

"Although I am Death and supposedly omniscient, the soul business is a peculiar one. What is a soul, what makes it special, all those questions, I want answers to. I can't, however, seeing as my job is delivering the souls, not perform experiments on them. So that will be your job; any information on souls; you find it, you tell me. Your brothers Adam and Sam were supposed to help you with that; as I said, however, it will now only be Sam."

Dean bit his tongue to keep from shouting out the question how the hell that was supposed to work without backstabbing one of them.

"Now, I made the deal with Sam that I would not bring _his_ soul back to _his_ body."

And the puzzle pieces fell together to form a picture.

"You were going to do a body swap," Dean stated, not knowing what to think, "Put Sam's soul in Adam's body and the other way around."

Talking about one messed up version of 'Freaky Friday'.

Death looked at him dis-interestedly. "Yes, indeed."

"Great, awesome, so what's the problem in bringing them both back?"

"Sam performed a rather perfidious ritual that makes his body uninhabitable for a soul. I believe you'd rather not like to hear the details."

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. Somebody wanted to go on a murder spree, fine, but not with his brother's body. Not in the body he'd seen grow up with him… As a hunter he knew best, though, that appearances aren't everything. Once he realized that, he felt the full weight of his brother's soul being tormented in hell being lifted off his shoulders – he would self-loathe later about deserting Adam.

All that mattered was that he would get Sammy back.

"So," Death rose, "Back to business, then."

* * *

June paid the pilot in cash; Sam had only ever seen that amount of stacks of money in thrillers and cop shows. He wondered how long June's money would last them and when he'd have to resort to credit card fraud again.

Knowing June, though, she probably had made some smart investments that would add considerable amounts to her fortune so that they could easily afford a _very nice_ lifestyle for the rest of their lives.

After having exchanged a few last words with the pilot, June marched over the runway – or rather, an uneven road in a field - and looked at Sam challengingly as she came to a halt in front of him. "Shall we, Romeo?"

"Keep dreaming, _Juliet_; I wouldn't kill myself for you."

"Ha, I wouldn't even _pretend_ to die for you in the first place. Now get your fine ass moving, I'm starving."

Sam opened his mouth to reply to that, but June was ahead of his kinky rejoinder: "_Not_ for you. This time, anyways."

Sam smiled and followed June off the 'private airport', as this ramshackle hangar was generously called, to a car parked at the side of the road.

"Where are we, anyways?"

"Awww, Sam!" June sounded as if he had just declared his love – well, she sounded like a _normal_ girl would if a _normal_ guy declared his love for her. For the two of them, June's tone was a clear announcement of a crushing comment to come. "You're only asking _now_? So you trust me to lead the way! How sweet!" Her eyes burned into his as her tone started to sound more like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "_After all I've gone through for you, you turn into a mushy Romeo?_"

"Most definitely not, princess. I knew even you wouldn't manage to get lost on a plane, so I figured it'd be fine for the time being. Now that we're back on solid ground, I trust you about as much as I'd trust a trickster. So, really, me asking was just to find out if maybe I should shorten you by a head's length."

"Well, we're in Cuba." June wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up to him, "Satisfied? And don't pretend you don't like every single inch of me."

Sam smiled faintly, traced her jaw with his fingertips and kissed her unusually softly. "Why Cuba?"

"Uh, let's see: Close proximity to the USA, which is a plus considering corrupt pilots cost per mile these days and it allows us to keep tabs on what's brewing other there. Then, a rather conveniently lose government and ferry connections to international airports should we need to bail ship again. Good, warm weather and nice beaches. Need I go on?" June didn't wait for his reply, but opened the driver's door and got in. Sam rolled his eyes and followed her into the undoubtedly Daddy-financed car. If Mark Hallberg would know what his daughter spend his millions on, he would turn in his grave. He still might; in this world, you never knew.

"You would fail royally in life without your inherited money, June."

"True. But you know what? I don't have to worry about that, because I _have_ the money."

"At least _something_ that makes up for your lacking personality."

June whipped her head around and glared daggers at Sam. "I don't lack personality; it just doesn't sit well with you that I'm not an obedient lap dog and I can actually put up with you!"

"You certainly don't lack self-deception," Sam cocked an eyebrow.

June swerved the car around the corner especially sharply, and bit her tongue in frustration about not finding a reply to that.

"Who's out of original replies now, princess?"

June knew better than to say 'Bite me', so she just drove in silence for two minutes before casually mentioning: "I suppose you don't mind me having booked a five-star hotel to _make up for my lacking personality_."

"At last; there's finally _one_ character streak to like about you."

"Last time I checked you didn't fuck my outstanding personality, but rather my luscious body, so why would you care, anyways? Unless you want to discuss Voltaire and Rousseau after sex, it shouldn't matter, right? "

Sam shook his head with an amused smile playing around his lips. "June, really. Just because I don't have a soul doesn't mean I don't have certain demands."

"I feel flattered," June shot back dryly. "I'm meeting the requirements of a _soulless_ guy, well, if that ain't something to add to the resume. Oh, and I'm following demons and werewolves, that surely will add to my qualities, too. Yeah, Sam, _real_ high standards you've got."

"You do fall in line nicely with all the other monsters."

"What does disassociate me with them is that I survived sleeping with you. Your trail of dead lovers doesn't really speak for you, Sammy."

"Your _lack_ of a trail of lovers doesn't speak for _you_, either."

June had to smile. When she risked a side-glance at Sam, she saw he had a predatory smile on his face, too.

"Think you can half-way manage not to appear like the low-brow brute you are?" June asked as she parked the car in front of the hotel.

"Think you can half-way manage to appear like the upstanding and respectable lady of the society you're _not_?"

June smiled, leaned over to kiss him and breathed: "Watch me." She elegantly stepped out of the car and cat-walked into the lobby after she'd tossed the keys to the valet. Sam, following her leisurely, had to admit that June held a certain amazement, the way she moved in these exclusive locations completely oblivious to her unsuitable appearance – ripped jeans, rock band shirt – and her rough company.

June leaned on the reception desk and said in the detached, distanced voice she had perfected over the years: "Good evening, I've booked a room in the name of Hallberg and would like to check in."

"Good evening, Mrs Hallberg, welcome to Aurora Resort." The receptionist greeted professionally and quickly typed something into the computer. "We have reserved one of the houses by the beach for you and your husband."

"He's not my husband," June smiled, feeling Sam's eyes on her back as he approached her from behind, "He's just my lover for this season."

Sam slapped June's ass and slid his hand underneath her shirt; and then revelled in June's smile turning forced as she bit back a snappy insult and in her obvious desire to wrench free from his licentious touch.

The receptionist avoided looking at the strange couple in front of him that absolutely didn't fit in and instead rattled the usual speech he gave new guests: "Breakfast will be served any time you wish, and we'd be happy to see you in our restaurant for dinner. We supply a list of recommended restaurants in the area, should you wish to go out. Our beach bar is opened from 8 p.m. to 2 a.m. If there is anything we can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Oh, my girlfriend isn't the hesitative type, don't you worry."

June took the key from the receptionist, smiled, and discreetly kicked Sam, regretting she wasn't wearing heels so that it would have hurt. "Thank you."

"Enjoy your stay."

"Oh, we will."

June took Sam's hand and jerked him away, before he could ask the clerk if sex on the beach was legal here or something of equal quality.

"In case you haven't noticed, Sam, this ain't a hooker shack."

"Then what are you doing here?"

June snarled. "Hilarious. I'm keeping your ass out of the hellfire, and that's the thanks I get."

"What else did you expect?"

"An ode to my brilliance would have been nice."

Sam huffed. "That would have been a quick laudation."

June punched his side, upon which Sam threw her over his shoulder and held her legs firmly in place so that she couldn't move, or more specifically, kick him. "Very caveman," She hissed. "Though naturally, you would have to resort to kidnapping to get a woman to live in the same house with you."

"Then what are you, if not a woman, since you obviously want to?"

It was probably a good thing they didn't have their souls with them, for no soul could take the constant bickering and humiliating. Now, Sam and June were perversely content with what they had.

Sam opened the door, his other hand still firmly holding June's legs, and kicked it close behind them.

"Alright, you made your conquest, now put me down."

"Literally?"

"Not like a wounded animal, jerk, but rather as in dropping me."

"Am I supposed to take _that_ literally, then?"

June scratched her nails across his back. "If you drop me, I swear to God I'll-"

"You'll do what, huh, princess? In case you haven't noticed, you're a little tied up and immobile at the moment."

"Well, you won't be able keeping me on your shoulder all your life, so the time will come when-" June let out an indignant cry of surprise when Sam suddenly threw her down onto the bed.

"There, all free. Now what, princess?"

June glared at him and sincerely hated him towering over her as he stood at the end of the bed, looking down at her and her clearly being the inferior. "If I had a gun right now, Sam, I'd shoot you without even blinking."

"Given that you would even know how to work it."

"You taught me, remember?"

"I taught you lots of things, babe."

June smiled cat-like, got onto all fours on the bed and crawled towards Sam. "You did, indeed."

A sceptical frown crossed Sam's face; no way did June turn from fire-breathing to all purry within nano-seconds. June now kneeled in front of him, her hands travelling up his thighs to the belt buckle and a smouldering passion glowing in her eyes.

Or maybe she could indeed turn go from being a bullhead to giving head.

June teasingly ran her forefinger over Sam's belt buckle, and when she saw on his face that she had him, she smiled and said alluringly: "I guess it's time I teach you something, then."

Sam raised his eyebrows, and June craned her neck to kiss his jaw.

"Patience," She breathed and swung herself off the bed with energetic grace. "Like I said, I need to eat." She danced out of the room, leaving Sam somewhere between frustration and amusement.

* * *

Dean wondered, looking at Adam's still body, if he would have his or Sam's memories… If Sam's soul would wonder about what had happened to its actual belonging body. Would he remember anything?

Sam had said he still had the same memories – so would his soul have them, too, or not?

Would he, Dean, be able to cope with his one brother's soul being in the other's body?

"You gotta stop tearing your hair or you'll grow bald." Bobby suggested helpfully.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"You can't do anything 'til he wakes up, Dean. Nothin' more to be done until then but wait."

* * *

"When's the last time you slept?"

June ran her tongue along her salt-rimmed Margarita, wondering if it was what demons would call a Molotov cocktail, and tore her eyes away from the ocean to look at Sam. "What? Do I have bags under my eyes?"

"No, not so far," Sam took a sip of his whiskey leisurely. "I just don't think you slept in a long time."

June opened her mouth to shoot a reply along the lines of 'You need a life aside from studying my habits' when she realized he was right. "I think last time I slept was… two days ago."

"Yet you're not tired."

"No, not really," June admitted and contemplated whether this shouldn't worry her. It probably should, yet it didn't.

"Because your soul's probably giving up," Sam stated casually.

"Guess so." June shrugged and gestured for another Margarita. "Since we're having the heart-to-heart here already-"

"What heart to what heart?"

"You know what I mean," June smiled and leaned back in her lounge chair, "What do you intend to do about Dean?"

"What am I supposed to do about him?"

"You think he's just going to let you go like that?"

"My soul's not coming back, and Dean knows that."

June took a taste of her drink. "Yeah, guess so. Did you even ever feel like his brother this past year?"

"June, what's with all the sentimentality?"

"Curiosity, not sentimentality." June corrected, "And I think that we should connect on a deeper level."

"I was under the impression I already went as deep as it goes."

"See, that's exactly my point: Our 'relationship' is solely based on sex and our need to tear each other's throat out."

"You don't sound as if you think it's a bad thing."

"Because I don't. Still, it'd be nice to know there's more, since we're to spend our soulless lives together."

"You sound awfully sure that that is going to happen," Sam arched an eyebrow.

"Prove me wrong."

Sam's one corner of his mouth shot up in a shadow of a smile. "Maybe later. As for your question: No, not really. I knew he was my brother, but it didn't feel like it."

"Did _anything_ feel like anything without a soul?"

"Shouldn't you know?" Sam inquired almost softly, "Or was it all fine until your mother climbed out of her grave she technically never was in to begin with?"

June leaned back and let her gaze wander over the shore. "No. It was never fine. I think that it only started to be alright after I finally gave up pretending. All my life, I told myself I had to feel… feel bad when I see people living on the street, feel happy when I'm holding a puppy in my arm, feel responsible if I did something wrong, feel repulsed by morally more than incorrect actions. But I never truly felt it, and deep down I knew that was wrong. I was a very good actress, though."

"Well, you had to be, if you didn't want to be cast out."

June looked at the man across from her and had to smile. Finally someone who wouldn't cast her out no matter what wrong she did or what she _didn't_ feel. "Yeah. I suppose that makes two of us, then."

Sam smiled deviously. "I suppose it does."

"Did I just hear you agreeing with me? You're losing your touch."

"I'm just taking a run-up to crush you real good next time."

June chuckled. "That is, if I don't crush you first."

"You mean, crushing _on_ me."

"No, hot shot, that ain't what I mean. I don't and never will have any romantic feelings for you."

"Good, because I would hate to leave you."

"That sounds almost sweet. Am I sensing feelings, Sam?"

"Not in this life."

"I think this may be the only one we got."

"You never know."

"Sam, we're soulless, there is no part of us that could pass on to another plain of existence."

"Maybe we won't even die."

June scoffed. "Right. Well, karma and reincarnation are way too tedious a topic for me right now. What I do want to know still is whether you, being the one of us with _officially_ no soul, have ever felt anything whatsoever."

"Rarely."

"Cut the ominous vagueness already."

Sam leaned forward across the small table, the nightlight casting an intriguing pattern of shadows on his handsome face. "I don't want to give you any wrong ideas, June."

She chuckled. "Sugar, there ain't a wrong thought that hasn't already crossed my mind."

"Don't I know."

June led her salted glass to her lips and shot Sam a glowing look out of come-to-bed-eyes. "Who, if not you?"

Sam trailed his fingertips down from her neck to her generously low neckline. June sighed, and leaned forward ever so slightly, arching towards his touch.

"There was one thing capable of intriguing me," Sam said, stretching his hand out flat on June's curving top of her breast.

"That being?"

Sam's hand started slipping down into her dress. "You."

"Wow, that was officially too much heart-to-heart for my non-existent one."

Sam smiled roguishly. "Anything that can be done to make you feel better?"

"Angry hate sex would be a start."


	5. Epilogue

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed this story. There might be more of Sam and June coming in the future. =)**

**

* * *

**

_**Let me not to the marriage of true minds**_  
_**Admit impediments. Love is not love**_  
_**Which alters when it alteration finds,**_  
_**Or bends with the remover to remove.**_  
_**O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark**_  
_**That looks on tempests and is never shaken;**_  
_**It is the star to every wand'ring bark,**_  
_**Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.**_

****

_"Sonnet 116," 1–8_

_

* * *

_

Kate Worthington had looked forward to her Cuba vacation – until her boyfriend left her two weeks before that.

After chocolate- and tequila-filled evenings with her supportive girlfriends, she'd decided that she would just go on said vacation with her best friend. Get away from men-trouble and bring some distance between herself and the cheating asshole Chris.

Her rock-steady intention to be a proud single wavered considerably when she saw the incorporated hotness working out at the beach for the first time.

"What is so interesting out there that you're gluing your face to the window?" Kayla, her best friend, asked as she stepped out of the bathroom.

"Come and see, Kay."

Rolling her eyes, she came to stand beside her friend. "Oh. _Oh, damn_."

"Yup."

"No, I mean, _seriously_, damn."

"Uh-huh."

It became their daily morning routine to watch Mr Mysterious Hotness running his round up and down the shore in the mornings, and watch him disappear in one of the holiday houses by the beach.

One day, Kayla had enough of just watching. "What do you say we go down to the pool and serve as appetizing decoration? That epitome of masculinity and sexiness must have needs." Kayla waggled her eyebrows.

"You really think he's here alone?"

"You think that his girlfriend, _if_ he had one, would let him off by his own? I sure as hell wouldn't let him off the leash."

Five minutes later, Kate and Kayla were down at the hotel pool, stretching temptingly in the sun and making sure to wear their scantiest bikinis. It was relatively sparsely crowded; it wasn't main season, but there were about ten other people by the pool site, anyways.

An older couple, several business men, some with their wives, and two elderly ladies, probably spending their dead husbands' money.

And only one possible concurrent: The young, pretty blonde holding her – admittedly attractive – body into the sun. Her Ferrari-red bikini enhanced and barely hid her luscious curves and suited her pale complexion. A disinterested, arrogant streak played around her mouth as she sipped her cocktail and flipped through a magazine.

She screamed arrogant rich bitch all over.

"You sure he even comes?"

"'Course," Kayla replied happily, "He always does. Every morning, he works out, disappears in his house for a while, and comes to the pool."

All too soon, it became evident what he was coming for: Or rather who.

* * *

A shadow fell on June's face, and she looked up to see Sam standing beside her lounger, hovering over her. "Congratulations, June, you officially look like a spoilt, brainless millionaire brat."

"Guess that makes _you_ my Gigolo." Leisurely, she closed her magazine and tossed it aside and took a sip from her Mojito, looking up at Sam from underneath heavily mascara-laden eyelashes provocatively, before putting it away.

Sam huffed, a hungry smile playing around his lips. "If I took money for sex, June, you'd be broke."

"And you'd be devoid of all pride and dignity. And those can't be regained."

They eyed each other insistently until June resolutely pulled him down to her and crushed her mouth on his. "You're standing in my sun, Sam."

"You don't seem to mind. In fact, you should be grateful to me for saving your white self from getting an unattractive sunburn."

"For that, you would have to cover my whole body."

"Gladly."

"That wasn't an invitation," June protested as Sam joined her on the generous lounger, burying her body underneath his as he stole another hungry kiss.

"Sounded like it to me."

"You really should have your ears checked. Hardness of hearing, comes with old age."

Sam roughly grabbed June's hip, holding her in place, and violently attacked her mouth with his. June willingly parted her lips to let his tongue enter, and drew her hands up his sides to his back.

One more advantage of hot weather? The dress code didn't ask for much cloth.

June put both her hands on Sam's shoulders, pushed him back into the padded lounger and lasciviously climbed on top of him. She kissed his sternum, drew her lips over his jaw back to his lips while her hands were travelling from his hips up to his shoulders as she sprawled her body on his.

Sam's hands traced her thigh, cupped her ass and pushed her further up to him. "You know, June, we've got audience."

"What, did you trip over your soul on your daily run? Or why are you suddenly such a prude?" June's tongue flicked over his bottom lip.

"Oh, babe, not at all. I'd just like to point out you should do this extra-good." Sam kissed the valley between her breasts before attacking her mouth again. "Wouldn't want to disappoint them."

"So considerate of you, Winchester. And such a poor excuse. Just admit you're getting your kicks out of others watching me being all over you." As if to underline her words, June made a rather compromising and unambiguous thrust forward with her hips.

"It's really too bad we like this place… otherwise I would just disregard hotel policy and ravish you right here."

"I wouldn't mind," June breathed into his ear. "Though I think we might give these people heart attacks… and to have murder charges in this lovely country would be rather inconvenient. I'd hate to leave again so soon."

"The guy staring at your ass would die happy, from the look of it."

"So having others check out your girl, _that_ turns you on?" June pressed her breasts flat against Sam's muscles. "My God, you're even more perverted than I thought."

"You're the one riding me in public, princess."

"You're the one who wants to fuck me in public."

"But I haven't," Sam buried his hand in June's hair and pulled her head down, grazing his teeth over her neck, "Yet."

June wanted Sam badly, but having it off by the side of the pool with people watching was a little far out there, even for them – well, okay, it wasn't, they just really liked this hotel and didn't want to leave. Which they undoubtedly would have to, especially if elderly audience would drop dead from heart attacks.

"Those girls over there look pretty interested," June stated ominously, as if daring Sam to agree with what followed: "Maybe we should invite one of them for a threesome."

"If I could be, I'd be shocked, June." Sam replied, unimpressed and played with the strings of June's bikini top. He was very tempted to tug at them and watch it slip from June's body. "So you are indeed dying to have Lesbian sex. Sure we shouldn't just call Meg?"

"If you don't want me to knee you in a very painful place, Sam," June hissed, "You stop it right there."

"You offered, babe, I'm just offering choices."

"I'll do anything once, hell, even ten times, without thinking twice about it, Sam, but that doesn't include threesomes."

"Who knew you were so possessive and jealous?"

"Oh, I'm not. In fact, we could gladly ask that guy over there if _he_ wants to join," June smiled devilishly.

Sam bit her lower lip, extracting a languorous sigh from her. "_Not_ happening."

"So much for me being possessive and jealous."

That topic therewith being off the table – for now, anyways – they resumed their heated, rough and erotic make-out session. That stopped being enough at one point.

"Let's just take this to the beach."

* * *

"They're not going to…" Kate's jaw dropped, and as much as she wanted to tear her eyes away, she couldn't. Mr Mysterious Hotness was an untamed animal, and his girlfriend wasn't far behind.

"Eat each other's faces off? Yeah, I think they are." Kayla stated dryly. "Wow, don't they have to breathe?"

"Apparently not." Kate wasn't sure whether to be amazed by the eroticism of those two gorgeous people making out or repelled by its raw, loveless character. "Is it just my sex-devoid single self, or is _that,_" She gave a discreet nod over to the other side of the pool, "Slightly intimidating?"

"It ain't just you, sweetie, believe me." Kayla couldn't even say _what_ struck her as odd about two young people passionately – okay, _really_ passionately - making out; She just knew that despite the heat of the scene, she felt chills running up and down her spine.

"Shameless," Kate heard the couple next to her murmur. "No decency these days."

Kate leaned over to them and said quietly: "I'm their age, and I wouldn't dare do that in my wildest dreams."

"Our friends have the house next to theirs, and they say those two are at it every time of the day," The other woman said to her. "And I've heard they're neither married nor engaged."

"Well, maybe that's why there's still that much fire in their sex life." Her husband remarked.

"Darren!" His wife Layla snapped, "We're married and we're doing fine. Stop looking at that slut's ass!"

"Because she has sex with her man she's a slut?"

"No, it's because she wears high heels to the freaking pool, drinks cocktails in the mornings and practically has it off with him in public that she's a slut!"

Generally, the male audience agreed on June having a fine ass and Sam being lucky to have such a permissive hot girlfriend. The female audience pegged June as a shameless hussy and agreed on Sam having a divine body but sadly was yet another 'good material' guy who was deceived by a big bust and long legs.

Everyone let out an inner sigh of relief, but also of guilty disappointment, when the blonde slipped on her 600$-heels and minced away with her lips glued to her lord and master's.

* * *

"You know I've got to get back to work at some point, June." Sam said lazily as he lolled on the couch, dressed just in jeans and flipping through an US newspaper.

"You sound as if I should regret having you gone for a while."

"Don't pretend you won't."

"I don't have to pretend, sugar; I ain't gonna miss you." June turned her back to him and made herself a Strawberry Margarita. It was seven in the morning, but since she hadn't slept all night, it technically counted as evening. Even if she had slept, it wouldn't have changed anything.

Decadence had long since replaced decency.

Sam was suddenly behind her, his lips on her neck and his hands manhandling her hips. June could feel his bare torso pressed against her body through her thin shirt and sighed.

"You can screw me all over the minibar again, Sam, it won't change anything about me not missing you."

"No, but you will miss getting laid."

"So will you, sugarkins."

"Who said I need you to get lucky?"

June turned around and looked at him daringly. "The same person who said _I_ need _you_ to get some."

Sam devouringly crashed his mouth on June's. She eagerly pushed her drink away, knocking it over as Sam lifted her onto the counter and wrapped her legs around him.

"Okay," June gasped between two hungry kisses, "I won't screw the pool boy, you won't screw the waitress."

Sam growled. "Deal. What about the maid?"

"Only if I get to ride the investment banker next doors."

June moaned when Sam painfully grabbed her ass and pulled her closer towards him.

"I wouldn't do that, princess." He growled threateningly.

"Then you better not screw the maid."

They sealed the deal with angry sex and two days later, Sam was gone to check out a case in Florida. Where he didn't sleep with either the waitress or the maid.

June meanwhile lay at the pool, resisted the temptation of inviting the attractive pool boy for a little hanky-panky to satisfy the devouring hunger burning inside of her. When afore mentioned investment banker shot her a lewd look that night at dinner, June bit her lips and left before she could do something stupid.

Back in her room, she angrily pulled out her phone. "Where the hell are you?"

"If I didn't know better, princess, I'd say you miss me."

"Only parts of you," June hissed. Lacking a soul had the little side effect of a very hyped up sex drive.

"I feel flattered, babe."

"I don't care how you feel, as long as you get your sexy ass back here _fast_."

When Sam finally returned one day later, they redefined 'eating each other up'; it was more of 'devouring withdrawal sex'.

* * *

After that first hunt, it became routine for Sam to disappear for a couple of days to hunt in order to fulfil his part of the bargain made with Death, and to then return, live the orgy life with June and then be gone again. It suited them well and moreover, the occasional time-out saved them from killing one another in the heat of the moment.

A few months of this later, Sam returned with a half-finished case that called for June's gift to solve.

"So all these couples who died had only that one thing in common?" June wanted to avoid the inevitable at all costs.

"The marriage counsellor, yes."

June groaned, knowing what was to come.

Sure enough, Sam smirked like a lion that had trapped its prey. "Get ready for therapy, _honey_."

"I'm excited to hear what she has to say about your complete failure as a husband, _darling_. I think she might call Amnesty International to save me from you."

Sam pulled her against him and grabbed her ass, leering down at her. "You're free to leave me, June, but you don't. And never will."

"Sounds vaguely like a death threat."

"I don't break my toys."

June struggled with him, but naturally lost and hence remained in the confining hold Sam had her in. "Your so-called toy happens to have a mind of her own and will refuse serving for your entertainment if you don't treat her right."

"June, June," Sam sighed, "Always so belligerent, and always so permissive in the end."

"One wonderful morning you _will_ wake up with a knife in your chest."

"I don't sleep, poppet."

"You won't have to, snookums." June finally wrestled herself free and pushed Sam away from her. "I've got no problem stabbing you when awake."

"I think couple counselling is long overdue, don't you, _honey_?"

"Oh, definitely, _sweet pea_." June hissed and hated herself for letting Sam talk her into stupid actions once again.

June made a mental note to add torture to the list of things to do to Sam as she sat on a comfortable couch some hours later, next to her alleged husband, and facing the marriage counsellor.

"I'm going to make you pay for this," June snapped under her breath, not moving her lips.

"Sounds like a good lay," Sam rejoined.

June clenched her fists as not to claw his eyes out, and forced herself to smile sweetly at the middle-aged woman across from her.

"So, Mr and Mrs Walker, why have you chosen to seek counselling?"

"Because _he's_ a pain in my ass." June shot back before she could stop herself.

"_She's_ the one voicing death threats on a daily basis," Sam replied lazily.

"Because _he's_ insensitive, heartless and concupiscent!"

Sam raised his eyebrows: _concupiscent_? "'Lusty' would have done fine, _wife,_ no reason to bust out your snobbish vocabulary."

"See, that derogatory tone there? That's how he _always_ talks to me."

"Because it turns her on, she just won't admit it, prude that she is."

Now June whirled around, skidding to the other end of the couch to be as far away from him as possible and blazed up at him. "I can't believe you're openly discussing our sex life! And I'm not a prude, as you would well know! Nobody living with _you_ is able to stay a prude for long, anyways!"

The therapist meanwhile wondered why these two got married in the first place. And how both of them were still alive. "How often do you have sex a week?"

"Depends," Sam shrugged, "I'm out of town regularly, so…on average, I'd say around seven or eight times. Nine if she's in a good mood, but that isn't the case all too often."

June added 'more torture' to the list of things to do to Sam. Long, agonizing torture.

"That is, uh, a…_very_ active sex life." The therapist's eyes widened; most couples she met didn't have sex that often in a month, let alone a week. So if their love life seemed healthy, almost verging on unhealthily over-active, what was their problem?

"Because _he's_ insatiable and needy." June hissed.

"She's the one wanting to get laid every imaginable place and time."

"I do not!"

"Plane, some months ago. Restaurant and movie theatre, last week. Hotel bar, two days ago. Car, just yesterday. Public beach, this morning." Sam listed, smiling deviously. Then he turned to her, eyes glinting: "Who's the insatiable, needy one now?"

Dana Jenkins' professionalism was the only thing keeping her from shaking her head and have them pegged as 'hopeless case'. "Alright, Mr and Mrs Walker, thank you. Now, why did the two of you decide to get married…" She flipped through her notes, "… one year ago?"

"Because he wasn't such a soulless son of a bitch back then." June replied sweetly.

"One year ago, she was a pretty, innocent and sweet girl, and not the perfidious, grousing, promiscuous bitch she is now."

"You tell me, Doctor Jenkins, how could anyone maintain her faith in love when she's married to this heartless brute?"

"Cute, now she's putting on the helpless victim act," Sam rolled his eyes, "Did I tell you she once had me locked up in jail just because she thought I'd lied to her?"

"You deserved it! In fact, I should have never bailed you out but rather have you put on death row! And you _did_ lie to me!"

"See what I mean with the death threats?"

"I've had it with threats; I'm going to go over to the real thing now!"

This was starting to get too much for the poor therapist. She glanced at the watch and was glad to see that there were only fifteen minutes of this session left. One minute more and she would be in dire need of therapy herself.

"Okay, I think I've heard enough." She concluded. "Mr and Mrs Walker, you two have the unhealthiest relationship I have ever seen during my entire career. If I were a sex therapist, I would tell you that you need to abstain from the abusive and dominating character of your _physical_ relationship; as a couple therapist, I am going to tell you that you are leading a destructive and highly abusive relationship in general, for which you are both equally responsible."

June shot Sam a 'I told you so' look, which he countered with an indiscernible smile.

"I normally say every marriage can be saved, but about yours, I am not so sure. You two aren't good for each other."

"That's what my parents told me when I gave up my high standard lifestyle for him," June sighed, "I just wish I would have listened to them."

"If you had, babe, you'd be dead."

"That does sound like a welcome alternative to being your wife, _darling_."

Dana Jenkins gave up.

There were ten minutes left of the session when the husband excused himself, leaving his wife sitting on the couch with blazing eyes and putting credibility to her claim of making the death threats true.

Doctor Jenkins gave an inward sigh of relief; one of them would be a lot easier to be in the same room with.

Or so she thought, anyways.

"Mrs Walker, I would like to use this opportunity to discuss _your_ role in this marriage."

June rolled her eyes; why did academics have to phrase everything so damn complicated? Couldn't the lady just say that she wanted to talk about her being one fucked up mess who needed to fill her empty life with kinky sex?

"Sure." June crossed her legs, "I'll admit that I had him locked up. That was a long time ago, though, and before we got married."

"It doesn't matter how long ago it may have been. Everything we do in a relationship leaves marks on a soul, and that is what relationships are based on."

"Ahaaaa," June stretched out the word, clearly indicating she thought the therapist to be beyond help, "Now, doctor, not for nothing, but Sam's and my relationship is based on very messed up foundations." Just then, June remembered her role as a wife wanting to save her marriage, and fell back into the frustrated, semi-hysterical wife pattern: "I mean, we had our difficulties in the beginning, but somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him. And I so thought he loved me back… but, just the way he treats me…!"

"Mrs Walker, you are no innocent in this situation." Dana Jenkins started carefully. She didn't know what it was about this woman that gave her the chills; maybe her perfection in acting. So perfect, that it wasn't real anymore – or just perhaps too real.

One way or the other, Alexia Walker was a cool and calculating woman that could undoubtedly stand up to her heartless husband, no matter how convincing she played the victim role.

"Perhaps, but I'm surely not the main defendant," June smiled sweetly.

"Love isn't a courtroom, Mrs Walker."

"It was you who brought up the matter of innocence, I am merely catching on to your method of therapy. Isn't that what you expect of your clients?"

The therapist, for the first time in her entire career, regretted her choice of profession. "Does love even have a place in your marriage to Sam?"

'Whoa, where'd that question come from?' June flinched unnoticeably. "What exactly do you mean?"

Dana Jenkins readjusted herself in her armchair. "I _mean_, why did you marry him, really? It must be obvious to you that your damaged self-esteem would suffer severe blows from a dominant man like your husband."

"My self-esteem ain't cracked," June barely controlled her volume.

The therapist wondered what background Mrs Walker really had; her speech varied somewhere from Upper East Side to Bronx. One second, she was a sophisticated, slick high-society lady, the next a tough biker bride.

"I haven't studied psychology for eight years without having learnt a thing or two about the human mind, Mrs Walker. You and your husband take perverse pleasure in humiliating each other…"

'Maybe Harvard really did teach her something,' June arched an eyebrow.

"… and unless you return to the roots of your love, there is little hope of your marriage prevailing. So, I'm asking you, has there ever _been_ any love involved?"

"Nope," June said outright and without particular interest. Her mind was already wondering what would hurt Sam most; sex withdrawal (though she sussed that one out of worry he might just pick up a pretty waitress to substitute her) or tying him up and make him watch all twilight movies.

That sounded like the much better option. Except for the part where she would have to watch along with him… though his agony surely would be worth it.

"For your own sake, Mrs Walker, I strongly suggest you find another way to keep your marriage together other than sex of abusive character. You're trying to fill a void inside of you, and your husband isn't the right one to fill it."

"He fills me up alright," June remarked indifferently. Because she was bored out of her gourds with this pathetic psychological crap, and not because she felt sorry for the therapist who looked as if she'd seen the devil – well, it wasn't that far off – June got up and said goodbye curtly.

"And?" Sam asked when she slipped onto the passenger's seat two minutes later.

"_And_, she thinks we're trying to make up for self-confidence issues with massive kinky sex, believes we should get a divorce and that you're a heartless son of a bitch."

"She charges 300 a session for that?"

"I'm more surprised she needs a doctor's degree to realize you're unbearable and have an uncontrolled sex drive." June smiled sweetly.

"I'm surprised she has said doctor's degree and didn't realize you're even worse."

June smiled, leaned over and kissed Sam while her hand travelled up his inner thigh.

"I'm driving."

"That didn't stop you before," June breathed.

"That was on some deserted highway, not in the middle of Miami."

"And you said I was the prude."

Sam growled, unwillingly pushed June away and snapped: "So, is the therapist the freak or not?"

"Nope, she's human." June replied and casually added: "I did find this, though." She pulled out a sheet of paper.

"And what's that?"

"A list of the people she transferred to a sex therapist. All the victims who had their life sucked out of them are on that list." June arched an eyebrow triumphantly.

"You're not quite as stupid as you make everyone believe, June."

"I'm flattered," She shot back sarcastically, "Now, I've got the therapist's home address, if you want to check it out."

"Not bad. Maybe I should take you along more often."

June scoffed. "Right. But not for research, no, you just don't want to go without sex for more than one day."

"Correct."

"Fine, but we won't be staying in motels. I want four-star hotels, minimum."

"Spoilt brat."

"Gigolo."

"Bitch."

"Manwhore."

"Oh, now you're getting creative."

"I've got more creative ideas lined up," June smirked, "If you're game, that is."

"There's a five-star hotel down this road. I'm sure they've got all you need to unfold your creativity."

June grinned, kissed his collarbone and breathed: "Thought so."

* * *

June and Sam lived their soulless lives to the fullest and kinkiest, in the end probably destroying as many lives as they saved. They never ran into Dean and Sam's soul, incorporated in Adam's body; and Dean in turn never went to look for Sam. He had his brother back, and that's all that mattered. That's the only thing that had _ever_ mattered.

Sam's soul was saved, which was more than could be said of June's. It didn't matter, though, because she was happy just the way she was: Soul chipped to pieces and a lifetime along the side of her equally soulless companion.

"Hey, Sam."

"That doesn't sound good."

"That's because it isn't."

"You're not pre-"

"God, no, I'm not pregnant." June shuddered at the mere thought of it.

"Good, because that would have been-"

"Catastrophic, I know. Back to what I meant to say: Let's take a one-minute time out from our usual soulless selves, alright?"

Sam looked at her sceptically as he propped himself up one elbow and looked at June lying beside him on the silken sheets. "For what?"

June lifted a hand and traced his jaw. "So I can say this and can forget about it again."

"You're worrying me. Or, well, whatever."

"So, promise me not to ever bring up what I'm about to say?"

"You should know a promise means nothing to me."

"I know. That's why I want you to swear on our sex life that you won't talk about it again."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "That must be one hell of a confession."

"It is. So?"

"Fine. Deal."

June took a deep breath. "I'm glad I have you, Sam. And I don't want to lose you."

Sam just looked at her blankly for a minute. "I'll be having a hard time not torturing you about _that_."

June smiled. "I know. That's why I made you vow on the one thing that really matters to us."

"If it's any consolation, June… I'm glad to have you, too."

The ensuing sex was the only one ever not characterized by roughness and hungry lust, but by something slightly more tender.

As the saying goes: Love comes in all kinds of forms and shapes. June and Sam had found theirs in each other.


End file.
